"Electricity Can Only Be Replenished By Whisky."

"This is actual physics. Do not argue with me. I am a doktor."

I've read through issue #1 (and soon #2) of Warren Ellis's latest, Doktor Sleepless, and right now there isn't enough of a hook to keep me waiting for issue #3. Monk had #2 and I picked up #1 in a comic book shop in Connecticut with Dan. I think it was called "Buried Under Comics", and is at 41 46.939N, 72 31.927W, plus or minus a few meters.

The good doktor really hasn't gotten into his backstory yet, but in all other regards is a typical Ellis protagonist: an austere antihero with abnormally good physique, some form of eye protection, at least one tattoo, and the presence of a female companion with a bad attitude. Fueled by something that can only be called a font of undue compassion and a need to serve a greater purpose, he has taken it upon himself to use the seemingly limitless resources at his disposal to tear the world a new asshole and show the populace of a large, dizzingly out-of-control city just how dizzy and out-of-control they truly are. Where Spider Jerusalem just used a bowel disruptor gun, Desolation Jones was content to just put his index finger through his opponent's eye socket. Doktor Sleepless uses science. Same melody, different lyrics.

This is not to say Doktor Sleepless isn't high quality or is a bad read; I'm simply pointing out that he lacks any significantly distinguishing characteristic that makes him, for example, something other than a tormented iconoclast who lives up in the hills away from the people he now must preserve/protect/defend. Spider lived in a cabin on a mountain. Jones stays in the flying saucer house up on the tippity-tippity-top of lovely Laurel Canyon. Heavenside isn't all that different, folks.

I still want the T-shirt, though. Even though they're out of stock and will likely need to be procured elsewhere, I like the fact that I once could have bought this wonderful "Doktor Sleepless: Science Bastard" shirt from a store called Minotaur. While doodling nonsensical charts on a whiteboard today, I insisted that someone erase the word haus and rewrite it in blue. I don't know if that's happy news or sad news.

Puzzlehunt resumed this morning, and after a decent night's sleep I was able to tackle a few new problems with a nice fresh outlook. We scored "not last" out of a group of 71 teams. Good times were had and then we did dinner at a sushi restaurant that made extensive use of a conveyor belt to deliver its products onto my table and by extension my stomach.

I think I'm going to like it here.

I still have a lot of angst and pain that people are polite enough, or apathetic enough, to avoid probing me about having. Monk goes back to work tomorrow, then I have a full day alone by myself to contemplate on all the grandiose problems in my life that, no matter how many bullets I try to put in them, won't stay dead. As we were wrapping up our work in the conference room of Building 118 today, Ken was kind enough to play a selection of Jonathan Coulton songs for the group. I remember hearing this one before, but lately all sorts of music are totally new and different to me anymore. He sings of a bittersweet optimism in "The Future Soon":

"Cause it’s gonna be the future soon
And I won’t always be this way
When the things that make me weak and strange get engineered away
It’s gonna be the future soon
I’ve never seen it quite so clear
And when my heart is breaking I can close my eyes and it’s already here"

After being in New Jersey all last week, my mom and sister are back home and were kind enough to give me a call congratulating me on my successful relocation to the West Coast. So far, devoid of my stuff and still checking my e-mail off of a secondary MX, it doesn't exactly feel successful yet. I'm seeing a lot of familiar faces and meeting new ones as well, so that keeps my spirits up. After all, there really isn't anywhere else to go but forward.

To the future.